Of Flames and Fevers
by The Whyness
Summary: Despite their familial ties, Reed and Johnny have never been close but when Reed falls ill and Johnny's the only one there to notice, they finally stumble onto common ground.


Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, nor am I making any profit from it. This is purely for fun!

Reed Richards was never a man opposed to solitude and persevering, however, as all the remnants of his recent meals swirled away with an obnoxiously loud flush and all the muscles in his body not currently being used to cling to porcelain lost rigidity, he felt about ready to admit defeat. Unfortunately for him, admitting defeat would require additional persons to admit his defeat _to_. Which he had. Kind of.

"Hey Mr. Fantastic!" an offensively cheerful voice boomed from two rooms over "If Pebbles were to come back and find all his clothes pink, d'ya think he'd buy the 'red shorts in the wash' line or just flatten me?" For a moment he allowed the laugh that followed to strike a spark of hope within him that the Human Hothead was not serious.

"As if he could!" And the spark sputtered out.

He groaned. Then he tried to bang his head against the rim of the porcelain, accidentally conformed to the shape of it and groaned again. Extensive hours in the lab combined with a lack of sleep and a possible case of food poisoning had him aching, nauseous and utterly exhausted. The fact that Susie had left that day before for a long weekend conference and Ben had volunteered as her companion to allow him to continue his research and Johnny to attend that dirt bike tournament he just couldn't miss meant that their youngest team mate was his only company.

He retched again.

He had managed to subdue the dry heaves and lower himself to the blissfully cool floor before the cries of "Oh god! Oh crap! Reed!" burst through the apartment. There was a moment of apparent flailing in the kitchen during which several kitchen type objects were either thrown or dropped with force before the occupant chose his direction and thundered toward the bathroom. It had seemed the reasonable thing to try to keep as still as super-humanly possible throughout this. Perhaps it would balance some kind of karma levels in the apartment. Perhaps it would keep his head from bursting open in some hideously elastic explosion. Either way he was determined to sustain the effort even as the door was thrown open and a slightly hysterical cry of "I'm fucking pink!" provided the climax to Johnny Storm's current chaos melody.

"Oh, wow man. You okay? You look like crap." Reed raised his head with the intention of glowering but got distracted partway up by the sheer wet, pinkness of the other's t-shirt, hands and arms. "Uh. Yeah. The dye kinda exploded on me." He stared. "Look just – What about you? When did this happen anyway? Why are you… are you fucking laughing at me?" and he was. As painful and jarring as the action proved to be, he couldn't help it. It wasn't the booming laugh of the man opposite him but rather a full, satisfied chuckle born of the image of their womanising practical joker being drenched bright pink as a result of what was, no doubt, his own stupidity. It was an image he wouldn't be forgetting for a while. Much to his own surprise he found that the aching tension in his head and neck eased somewhat with the action, even though it threatened to unsettle his stomach in a very unpleasant way.

A glance up at the Luminous Wonder told him that the only reason he wasn't seeing the full force of Human Torch indignation was because of his own rather pathetic position; curled up and slightly limp on the bathroom floor. If the fact that Johnny hadn't already retaliated didn't hint at his concern, the worry evident even through his irritation would have. In all honesty Reed was slightly surprised.

"Yeah well laugh it up." His future brother in-law muttered between shedding his soiled top and donning another that was strewn over the towel rack where he'd last thrown it, resolutely not acknowledging the way the fabric tried to stick to the drying dye on his skin, "What's wrong with you anyway? You were fine this morning. All the late nights and wild parties starting to get to you?"

"Food poisoning" Reed replied, seamlessly ignoring the sarcasm.

"What?"

"Food poisoning"

"What?"

It was possible, he supposed, that the way he had allowed his face to mould itself to the tiles may have been distorting his words so he peeled it off and tried again "Food. Poisoning."

He embraced the silence that followed and hummed a dismissive acknowledgement to the "If you didn't work so hard you'd be more fit to fight it off" that eventually broke it.

His mind was just dawning on the realisation that Johnny Storm, Human Torch and flaming hot head since the moment he could talk, just sounded remarkably like his sister, the patient and ever sensible Invisible Girl, when a warm set of hands eased him into a sitting position. "Johnny, what –"

"Shut the hell up" and one arm slipped around his chest as the other guided his own arm around the younger man's shoulder. He tried to pull himself together as Johnny braced himself to raise them both and managed to get both feet under him and bearing weight by the time they were upright. "For someone so clever, you're really goddamn stupid, you know that?" He bit back a groan as his stomach seemed to shift with their first step forward. "Even I could tell you that working yourself under the table is going to compromise your health." He forced his body into a less dependant state, bearing more of his own weight as they edged forward. "And you're supposed to be the smart one." He drew his attention from the gruelling task of walking to notice he was being led to his bedroom and was about to raise the argument that he still had work to do when he stumbled slightly, made his head swim and decided that maybe a small break _would_ be beneficial.

Johnny was still muttering, sounding now like a potent mix of Susie and his usual self, somehow managing to make his concern apparent whilst combining it with the same derogatory sarcasm that may or may not have been laced with respect. It was similar, in its paradox, to the way he made Ben's life a living nightmare with evident loyalty affection and it occurred to Reed, as he tuned his friend out, that maybe he should put his study of Johnny's super powers on hold and try to establish how the hell he works as a human being first.

He was snapped out of the vague idea of having a consistently contradictive personality declared a mental disorder and naming it after his soon-to-be brother in-law when he was brought swaying to a stop. His bed was here. His bed had come to him in his hour of need and was looking more inviting than it had in all the years he'd had it.

"Hey, I dragged your sorry butt to your room, Reed! Don't go handing out praise to the furniture when, in my own time of trauma, I practically carried you to the safety of your room! What kind of ingratitude is that?" He'd said that out loud? Oh. Johnny may have carried on but Reed was far too busy trying to lean his way onto the sheets and wondering if 'ingratitude' was actually a word to notice.

He found himself sinking into the mattress moments later and from the way the Torch had yanked his shoes off and was practically throwing the duvet over him, all the while huffing and growling like a man should not be subjected to this kind of effort, he guessed that he had the other to thank for it.

Johnny retreated a couple of feet back from the bed as Reed curled into its warmth, hands hovering around him as though he didn't quite know what to do with them.

"I'm gonna go make lunch" he said, walking backwards toward the door, hands fluttering. "Then I'll go buy some soup for later in case you're feeling up to it. Just – stay here. Rest." And then as he turned into the hallway, flung an awkward "Call me if ya need anything" over his shoulder.

The scientist took a moment to wonder at his friend's unexpected show of compassion and responsibility. The corner of his lips twitched into a hint of a smile before his body gave in to the sleep it had been so cruelly deprived.

He awoke some hours later to a room drenched in evening light and a slightly duller ache throughout. The rest had done him good, though he was in no particular hurry to move in anyway. However, as the dregs of sleep slipped away he became increasingly aware of a bitter taste curdling in his mouth; no doubt because he hadn't rinsed it out earlier. The more he thought on it, the quicker the nausea built up and, lurching upwards as his throat tightened, his eyes landed on the glass of water standing idly by on his bedside table. The water was cool and glass slick with condensation as he swallowed it down. It didn't wash the taste away but diluted it enough to steady his stomach.

It occurred to him, as he heaved himself bodily from the bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, that Johnny must have placed the glass there recently for it to still be cool. Once again he found himself slightly touched by the boy's unexpected thoughtfulness. He was beginning to wonder if he had underestimated his young team mate when he met his own eyes in the mirror. From there his gaze was led naturally to the pink handprints and smears that littered what had been one of his favourite shirts.

Realising that rolling the eyes whilst nauseous and dehydrated was counterproductive, he made a mental note not to attempt it again and brushed his teeth.

The effort of stalking from bedroom to bathroom and standing for the full five minutes it took to brush the taste away had taken its toll on the man. He padded to the living room from where the sounds of one of Johnny's racing games were emanating, although seemingly quieter than usual, and lowered himself to the couch. He thought he felt the other's gaze flicker to him from his place on the floor as he entered though the bike he was guiding on screen never wavered.

The realisation that he must have fallen back asleep came with the sound of a tray being 'placed' on the coffee table with Johnny's unusual recklessness, jarring him awake. A bowl full of what looked to be chicken soup sat next to a plate of crackers, an empty glass, a jug of water and some Tylenol. He glanced up once again surprised but his friend was already slumped down against the couch, reabsorbed in his game.

"You should eat." Was all the other said, looking up only to add "And don't even think about throwing it up after the trouble I went through to make it." Reed had to wonder exactly how much trouble soup from a can could cause to a man who didn't even need an oven to heat it but had long ago learned not to question these things. Instead he just slumped down next Johnny and made a timid attempt on meal provided. He'd made it half way through the jug of water by the time he'd finished the soup and his stomach was grumbling and shifting as though trying to decide whether or not to hold on to his meagre offerings. Deciding himself that he'd rather not be aware of the thought process, he eased himself back onto the couch and curled across it, letting his mind drift into a dreamless sleep.

The harsh brush of gel stiffened hair in his face bid him to wake. Judging by the fact that the only light in the room came from the almost muted TV, he assumed the sun had long since set and it was either very late or criminally early. It was only after reaching this conclusion that a surprising realisation dawned on him: he was comfortable. A glance about him showed that his head was cushioned with his own pillows and his body curled under his own duvet. The man responsible, it seemed, had somehow grown bored of Bruce Willis's almost silent rendition of Dieing Hard and had slumped back against the couch in sleep, his head falling back against the pillow.

Reed could not have been more disorientated. Between the clutches of dizziness, the fact that he had somehow woken in more bedding than he fell asleep in and the fact that the person responsible was not only the loudest and least subtle of all occupants of the apartment but also that said person was still here, in the apartment late on Friday night (or early Saturday morning) slumped unconscious in front of the TV, he found himself somewhat bemused. It was like falling asleep in one dimension and waking up in another, slightly skewed, one. None the less, home dimension or other, he really needed to make another break for the bathroom, albeit for less daunting, more everyday reasons this time.

He gazed longingly at the shower after drying his face and hands, but doubted he'd have the stamina to stay awake long enough to make use of it and as heavenly as a bath sounded, the time and patience required to run it was more than he was willing to extend. He opened the door just in time to watch his quilts and pillows totter by.

He followed them, reaching his room just as Johnny padded out.

"Get some sleep, Mr. Fantastic. You still look like crap."

Had Reed not been so socially adept he may have pointed out that their Human Torch wasn't looking so hot either.

"You're not looking so hot either." Said Torch merely laughed.

"Tell that to the ladies!"

And Reed may have gone further and pointed out that there were no ladies to tell because Johnny hadn't been out to collect any, not that he ever brought them to the Baxter Building anyway; something about not bringing conquests home to meet the family, but the boy was already making his way to his own room, waving a dismissive hand. So instead, Reed just headed into his own room and crawled under the blankets where they had landed and fell back asleep.

Morning brought with it the obnoxious twittering of birds and the glorious smell of caffeine.

He dragged himself through the motions of changing before weaving down the hall. He found Johnny sitting at the breakfast bar in a pair of grey sweats and a too big t-shirt that displayed a logo he didn't recognise, a bowl of cereal in front of him, a round mug of coffee steaming within his reach and the small TV blaring out cartoons from three feet away. Reed fell into the chair beside him.

"How's it hanging, Mr Fantastic?" The other asked.

"I feel like I recently spent a considerable amount of time throwing up and peeling myself off bathroom floors." he muttered.

"Ah ha! Yeah, we've all been there, but it's usually worth it, am I right?" Johnny smirked at him. Personally, Reed failed to see how an apple pie gone wrong or whatever superfluous food item it was twisting his guts was 'worth it' but offered an amicable blink nonetheless. He did owe the boy after all. "So, uh, you up for some breakfast? Like toast or fruit or something?" This time his blink had the distinctive edge of deep thought about it.

"I think" he decided finally "I'll pass." The soup last night had not gone down easily and whilst he suspected his illness was waning and he may have been able to stomach the toast, the thought of adding to his body's arsenal against him wasn't too appealing.

"You're meant to keep your strength up."

"I'd like to keep my stomach lining in."

"You're a regular ray of sunshine when you're sick, you know that?" and rather than replying, Reed turned his attention to the coffee machine. He watched it intently. Watched it as it failed to aid him in his weakness and decided it should take up lessons from his bed. Then he glanced up in time to see Johnny roll his eyes like it didn't make his head swim, the bastard. Moments later a coffee, black with sugar, was placed before him and despite the under-the-breath exasperation from his young friend, Reed consented that maybe he wasn't really that much of a bastard all of the time.

"I think that Mr Fantastic," Johnny muttered between mouthfuls of bright, marshmallowie cereal, "Has hit the whiney-miserable part of his illness." And he was probably right.

"Means I'm getting better."

"Means you're gonna be about as fun as a migraine."

"That too." And they finished their respective breakfasts to the cries of swooning damsels and catch-phrase assurances of super heroes.

After draining three full mugs of coffee, the last two of which he'd had to make himself, he'd acquiesced to the natural bodily functions a breakfast of this sort demanded and then found the strength to run himself a bath. Newly dressed in a pair of clean sweats and that oh-so-soft t-shirt Susie had insisted he buy, he meandered his way back to the living room. He knew he should be getting back to his research but the couch looked so inviting and it was right there across from the bookcase and he still had yet to read that novel Ben had bought him for his last birthday and his body could do with the rest and so really it was only the responsible thing to pluck the book from the shelf and curl up on that part of the couch where the sun spilled in and made it cosy-warm.

He'd managed the first eight and a bit pages before he put the book down, open against the coffee table, and let his eyes fall closed.

Consciousness once again filtered back, this time to the soft swishing and clanging of someone washing up and the whine and roar of motor bikes. He needed more coffee.

Both men stayed intent on their own tasks as he padded into the kitchen.

"What are you watching?" he murmured mostly into his own mug.

"Dirt Bike Tournament" Johnny replied, voice dull with distraction. Reed nodded. His coffee could use more sugar... Wait-

"- What? I thought you were going to that? Thought you wanted to 'Show them just what the Human Torch can really do'?"

"Meh. Wowed one dirt bike tournament crowd, you've wowed them all." His gaze didn't falter "Plus, someone has to stay here and make sure the good scientist doesn't choke on his own vomit or sleep himself to death. Susie called. Didn't tell her you were ill, you know how she gets, I'll let you deal with that." He flashed a grin, dried his hands and, leaving the small kitchen TV on, headed towards the bigger one in the living room. Reed padded after him. They sat side by side against the couch, a foil pan of popcorn materialising on the coffee table from which Reed took the occasional single piece and Johnny fisted great mouthfuls and as Reed hissed and winced at all the moments Johnny cheered punched the air he couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't done this sooner.

As it turned out, it was never necessary to awaken the beast of Susan Storm's Concern as, when she called that evening, Reed was feeling a great deal better. After the thrills of the dirt biking, he'd crawled back into bed to be awoken some hours later by Johnny banging on his door and announcing that dinner was up. Dinner that evening being take-away pizza which the other claimed was the healthiest take-out he could find. Reed suspected he hadn't looked too far as the 'All Organic!' restaurant across the street wasn't too hard to spot but found himself grateful as his body accepted the food with relish. Instead he told her he had taken some time from his work to get some rest which made Johnny laugh out loud from his end of the couch and Susie laugh in triumph.

Both slept off the fatigue of his illness with a lie-in the following day, meeting in the kitchen not long before lunch. Reed suggested they eat out, not usually bothered by the close confinement of the apartment but feeling the familiar longing for a change of scenery one gets after being grounded by illness. Johnny whooped with his usual enthusiasm and took him straight to a bar/diner where he called the owner by his first name and flirted with the waitresses. One where no one was impressed by their celebrity status and where the sanitation was questionable but the food was good and Reed found himself relaxed in a public place for the first time in months.

He couldn't help but wonder if a place like this, where everyone knew his name and very few cared to use it, was typical of Johnny's usual haunts. If some of those times the boy left at the start of the night, when they assumed he was out to be spotted and indulge in his fame, he was really giving his custom to well liked landlords of familiar bars, socialising with people who were more excited by his personality than his powers. He wondered how it was possible to live with someone for months and have a well ingrained knowledge of their physiology and biological averages and yet know next to nothing about their personal preferences and life outside of their job and home. He found himself getting swept into unlikely stories, chuckling at the expansive gestures that were distinctively Johnny and, with the wrapt expression and hearty laughs of the other when he told his own stories, realising with a sudden clarity why Sue and Ben harboured so much affection for this young man, albeit usually with a healthy side order of exasperation. Despite the womanising and wild tendencies the Human Torch was famous for, there was also a childish innocence and enthusiasm that ran much deeper. One that struck a protective nerve in their kind-hearted flat mates and it was definitely about time for Reed to get acquainted with it.

Deciding to use their remaining time to the advantage of his new project, he let Johnny persuade him into a night of DVDs and junk food, though the latter was more indulged by the boy in question. The night eventually trailed off into tales of past experiences and more than a fair share of embarrassing stories about Sue from her brother. Reed had actually been enjoying himself by the time they said their good nights and turned in.

After another, slightly less intentional lie-in, Reed rose the next day, took one look at the mess they'd left the living room in, the clutter of dirty dishes and utensils on the side, the clock that ticked away the hours to Ben and Sue's return and banged on Johnny's door until he dragged himself out of bed. Together they spent the morning tidying up beyond the original state of the apartment. The silences that filled lapses in conversation were more comfortable than they'd ever been and there was a distinctive lack of tension between them. When the house was clear and gleaming Reed picked his book back up and returned to his patch in the light. He could hear Johnny hurrying back and forth down the hall, a couple of crashes and a definite giggle had him shouting a warning to stop whatever it was he was doing but both of them were aware he was just going through the motions of being the responsible one and the noises hadn't stopped when he turned back to his book.

With only a few hours left until Ben and Sue's set return Johnny charged back in and declared that they were going to have to get in more pizza to welcome them back. This time Reed delighted in rolling his eyes but complied anyway. Of course, when they were actually out on the street the list grew and by the time they returned their arms were laden with a wide range of food and drink, none of which were healthy but many of which were favourites of the group. Once again Reed was swept up by his friend's childish glee and found himself dragging tables out to arrange their buys upon. The end result was something like a banquet at a child's party although with slightly more alcohol and without the brightly coloured decorations. And admittedly the music blaring from Johnny's CD player wasn't quite up to scratch either, but the mood was there and Reed was pretty sure that when Ben and his fiancé walked in moments later, they could feel it. Of course the fact that Johnny was leaping forward, laughing and sweeping Sue into a hug almost before the door was closed made it somewhat difficult to ignore. He all but pushed her to the table and crowed "Guess who bought your favourite!"

"I did." Reed interjected with a voice that suggest he remember exactly who had paid for this whim.

"Yeah but I pointed it out and that's what counts. And!" he continued as Reed approached and closed his arms around his wife-to-be, chuckling at her surprise "We got pancakes for you Pebbles!" he grinned "No need to thank me."

"Because you didn't buy them." And Johnny looked ready to bite back a reply but the others got over their initial surprise and the feast began.

Hours later found Reed once again reclined on the couch, this time with his fiancé reclined against him, his face pressed lightly against her hair.

"So it looks like you and my brother had fun." And there was a hint of surprise under the teasing.

"Who doesn't have fun when the Human Torch is around?" There was nothing more beautiful than the way she chuckled against him. "Besides," he continued in his best 'It's only logical' voice "He's going to be my brother soon too." And the rate at which she sat up and twisted round, the hope on her face as she studied him for any signs of insincerity or irritation, the smile that broke across her face when she didn't find it and the way she pressed her face into his neck and chuckled a heartfelt "You don't know what that means to me." against the skin there, made him all the more glad for the connection he'd found with her brother. He felt, in that moment, a complete contentment born of being at home where he belonged, part of the makeshift foursome that now simply was his family. Nothing could disturb a peace like this.

A cacophony of footfalls broke out at almost exactly the same time Ben's voice roared out an enraged "JOHNNY!" and the man in question was almost at the window by the time a very wet, very pink (at least in the head and shoulder area) Thing charged in. The equally wet and pink stained bucket that he launched across the room went wide and Johnny's full blown laughter was drowned out by a horrified cry of "JOHNNY!" from the couple no longer curled up on the couch.

Reed made sure to look suitably exasperated as Sue's scream of frustration was lost under an ecstatic "FLAME ON!"

Author's note: So thanks for reading! I know it's not much but this is my first story so please, please review and preferably with constructive criticism!

Thanks muchly!


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